Название: The Museum of Things Left Behind
Автор: Seni Glaister
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежный юмор
isbn: 9780008118969
isbn:
He shook his head sadly at the memory. ‘But, hey, guys, I’ve got to hand it to you! You know how to rise to a challenge. By the time I had next returned, not only had you substantially increased the size of your plantation, but had doubled the number of plants you were growing per hectare. What a great achievement that was! And I think, as we take this little jog around Memory Park, we should applaud that achievement.’ The assembled group were in collective mourning for the loss of their orchards so the American consultant clapped alone. ‘But none of us will ever forget that terrible realization when we analysed the results of the first significant year. We just had to face up to the facts. Your best, our best, just wasn’t good enough. With the greatest will in the world, we needed more. We knew there was a market for it, but we weren’t even going to get a nibble without a bulletproof strategy behind us.
‘So, phase two of the review saw more tough decisions as you set about converting the smallholdings of your nation and reclaiming land that was, frankly, in the wrong hands if you wanted to make your country count.
‘As they say, every little bit helps.’ Up on the screen popped a series of statistics, represented by a complex Argand diagram. Most of the assembled group were impressed, both by the clarity of the PowerPoint presentation and to see their work – their nation – featured so positively in a chart. The professor alone understood the methodology behind the diagram and tilted his head to try to interpret the mathematics. The numbers were seemingly nonsensical, expressed as they were by a vertical line of conjecture, but he nodded approval to hide what must surely be his own misinterpretation.
The American consultant, having built up his audience’s confidence with praise, dashed it with a slow shake of his head. ‘But you will recall that even those great efforts weren’t enough.’
One by one, the assembled men hung their heads in shame, including the president, whose eyes filled at the memory of his nation’s shortcomings.
The consultant broke his silence with a bark: ‘But did we give up? Did we give up on you and turn our backs on a floundering client? No way, siree. When our clients are struggling, we’re struggling. That’s in the small print, remember! That was when our very brightest guys got together and strategized you out of your predicament. You had the benefit of some of the best thinkers in our organization. Blue sky? Forget it. We’re talking about stratospheric thinkers. It was the best of the best, our alpha team, that came up with the final phase of Operation Acorn. It was then that we asked you to gather your men and prepare for the final assault.’
Alix’s sharp intake of breath could be heard around the table. The word ‘assault’ hung painfully in the air and the American consultant grasped it with both hands. Conscious of the power it had granted him, he wrestled metaphor from it with unbridled enthusiasm.
‘From general to foot soldier, you rallied the troops, assembled at the front line and formed the ranks to make the final push. That great effort, the final full-scale attack, allowed momentum to gather. The conversion of gardens and domestic curtilage to full-scale crop production allowed us to break through that final frontier. Together, the effort made on behalf of your people has provided the additional land we needed and I am now delighted to announce that you have met your quota and, with some eighty-eight million tea plants now producing the finest Vallerosan tea, we have enough to sustain a viable export market.’
The most indiscernible of pauses was followed by hearty spontaneous applause and Sergio breathed a huge sigh of relief, as he mopped the sweat from his brow. Throughout the preamble he had been dreading a further postponement of good news and the timing of this delivery was perfect for the week’s campaign plans. Without a note to rely upon, he leaped to his feet and delivered a heartfelt oration.
‘Gentlemen, ministers, advisers, our American consultant. It is on occasions like this that I am able to remind myself of our duty as governors. We are here not simply to uphold law and order but to mould the country for the future. This is a living example of the beauty of Elective Dictatorship – Continuity for Sustainability! – and a perfect instance of the practicality of a government with longevity. We are not merely parliamentary officials, we are custodians! Caretakers of a land that, properly nurtured, we can pass on to our successors with pride. We are responsible not just for creating a legend but delivering that legend, and actually harvesting its crops! My predecessor, my father, instituted a change in policy and that was a brave, bold move, one that has taken more than a decade to implement. It has been implemented now, not without considerable sacrifice and hardship. A weaker leadership might have abandoned the policy much sooner, but because we have been entrusted with the safekeeping of this nation for such a long time, we are able to see through these changes for a much brighter future. A government that is not hampered by the ever-changing direction of new leaders and the policy U-turns that are inevitable as adversaries take to the stage, pulling the country’s people from left to right and back again. We are able to stick to our guns and make a real difference. I’m proud to be part of that change, proud to be part of such a defining moment of our history.
‘Now, honoured guest, would you care to join us in a cup of our finest?’ He raised an empty cup in mock salute. In a synchronized movement, the assembled group swirled the dregs in theirs and brought them to their lips, showing their respect not just to their leader but to the many men and women who had sacrificed their own small plots to meet the targets set by their visitor. The American consultant smiled blankly until he realized he was supposed to join them in their tea-sipping ceremony. He shrugged and twiddled a pencil. The men around him were expecting something more. He shrugged once more, by way of an apology.
‘Guys, guys. I’m from the United States of America, don’t forget that! Tea might be the most popular drink in most nations, and it’s that global potential we’re tapping into here, but I’ve got to tell you, in the great US of A, tea is just not that important. In fact, it trails behind soft drinks, milk, beer and coffee.’ He let this fact sink in and, noting the assembled ministers’ look of disbelief, added for emphasis, ‘Actually, eighty per cent of the tea drunk in the US of A is served cold. I can’t imagine that tea as you know it would feature in any ranking of preferred beverages.’
Enzo Civicchioni visibly paled and there was a low growl of disgust from the commandant. The rest of the men were trying to redefine that strange country, which appeared to be devoid of any good taste or culture. ‘I’ll drink your health at the bar later. Don’t take it personally, guys. I’m just not a tea man.’ With that, he closed his laptop decisively and shuffled his belongings into a neat pile.
CHAPTER 7
In Which the President Has Doubt
Sergio was meeting in his private chambers with the man formally known as Signor Angelo Bianconi, chief of staff to the president, but more comfortably known by Sergio as Angelo, good friend and occasional drinking partner. A decade the president’s senior, he could easily be mistaken for the younger of the two. Lean, lanky and with an unruly fringe that refused to conform, his habitual lack of tie and jacket, and his blatant disregard for the hierarchical procedures that governed both Parliament and the country, Angelo’s languid nature belied his seniority within the cabinet. He had known Sergio all his life and had been there to share the milestones, from the woefully early death of Sergio’s mother, to the first breathtaking bicycle ride down the north-west run, from his ascendancy to president upon the СКАЧАТЬ